


November Rose

by Sword_Kallya



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: F/M, Just kind of looks like one, Never mess with a mother, With thanks to Emily Dickinson, not actually a songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-02 11:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6563746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sword_Kallya/pseuds/Sword_Kallya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A November-blooming rose is caught in an ice storm. Before the rose wilts, sheathed in ice, it reflects the sunlight and appears made of gemstone.</p>
<p>The story, in a series of eight vignettes, of Lady Teodora Vodenicharova Heterodyne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of getting my research paper done, and also because I found a book of Emily Dickinson's poetry in the library and started thinking about Teodora.
> 
> Music for this chapter: Thaxted by Gustav Holst.

[[Link to music]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H181F8gOHYQ)

* * *

 

_I had no time to hate, because -_

 

Teodora Vodenicharova strode through the gates of Mechanicsburg, head held high. "The Heterodynes value weakness in concubines," she had been told. "You will be a wife. If you wish to keep his attention, or to win his affection, you must have enough fire that he cannot ignore you."

_If he has his eyes on me, no one else will have to go through this. Not in my lifetime._

The streets rang with cheers as the bridal party made their way to the cathedral. Teodora kept her eyes ahead.  _Virtue is not kind,_ she reminded herself.  _That which is in the dark often despises the light._

 

_\- The grave would hinder me -_

 

The Red Cathedral of Mechanicsburg was designed to be as intimidating as possible. Teodora forced her breath to calm, pinching herself in order to focus.

Her sister leaned over to hug her, and whisper in her in her ear, "We filled the compartment in your work bag, you know the one, with herbs you might need."

Teodora did know the compartment. She knew the herbs as well - Trusty Maiden's Weed and others, to raise and lower desire, to heighten the effects of alcohol on the senses, and to calm a spark in fugue. The Vodenicharovas were known for their way with such things.

There would be poisons, too. Sometimes, the kindest thing to do for a patient was to end the pain.

 

_ \- And life was not so ample I -  _

 

Her husband smiled like the sun when he saw her. Smiled, and kissed her hand - and kept smiling, as the acolyte at the altar was killed. Sacrificed.

Teodora kept her face impassive.

When the other acolyte tripped from fear, she caught him and set him back on his feet before her husband could react.

 

_ \- Could finish enmity.  _

 

The reception was wild, but thankfully less bloody than the ceremony. Teodora danced with a succession of jaegers, but all her partners stayed well within sight of her husband. She was thankful. A false kidnapping might be traditional, and especially appropriate for Mechanicsburg, but she wasn't sure she could have handled it. 

When she mentioned this to her husband, his response was disturbingly casual. "Oh, the jaegers would love to, but it's not allowed when the bride was kidnapped. Apparently, a former princess of Borzoi was surprisingly talented at lacing drinks. She bought them a round and poisoned half of them." Saturnus grinned at her, bright as sunlight, dark with lust. "Now, my dear, shall we go in?"

Teodora looked at him, held up a hand to wait, and drained a full glass of liquor. Then she got up and followed him to bed.


	2. Funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots more dialogue, this time around.
> 
> Music for this chapter: On a Hymnsong of Philip Bliss by David R. Holsinger

[[Link to music]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rfMz9a4oYk)

* * *

 

_Nor had I time to love, but since -_

Teodora’s first child was born in the first days of March, when spring had just begun to thaw the ground and the air still tasted of snow. Saturnus kindly informed her that it was her right to name the boy.  
“William,” she called him. “After a cousin of mine.” Teodora didn’t say that William Vodenicharova had been killed defending his children from jaegers. Even with her relative freedom as the Heterodyne’s consort, there were still things she didn’t dare say.

_\- Some industry must be -_

By far the most terrifying time in Teodora’s entire life was the two weeks of her sons’ breakthrough.

Despite the Castle’s insistence that it had brought generations of Heterodynes through breakthrough relatively unscathed, she dug her work bag out of the dustiest corner of her rooms and tore through the compartments until she found the box marked for calming tea. She probably shouldn’t have dosed all their drinks until breakthrough was over, but she _truly_ didn’t care.

Afterwards, when she was up from whatever Saturnus had used to calm _her_ down, she spent a full fifteen minutes hugging her boys.

_\- The little toil of love, I thought -_

“Mistr- Milady?”

Teodora looked up from her book. “Ah,” she searched for the maid’s name, “Clairmonda. What is it?” Clairmonda, of all the servants, was most likely to tell her if she needed to argue with her husband for the boys. “Which lab?”

“None of them yet, milady. May I come in?” She looked very worried.

Teodora’s brow furrowed, but she closed her book anyway. “Of course. Close the door behind you, please.” As Clairmonda sat, Teodora gestured for her to begin.

“Milady, there’s been… talk.”

“Of…”

“Of the - of your sons, milady. There’s folks in Mechanicsburg that think they shouldn’t be allowed to inherit.”

“They have been saying that since Bill’s fifth birthday. Why, exactly is this different?”

“Because Master William’s sixteen now, and he _still_ fights his father on even what most think are the littlest things. The Lord Heterodyne is beginning to _listen_ to those saying that - well, that he should try again.”

Teodora froze. “Clairmonda. Are you saying that you believe that my husband is going to kill my sons?”

“I… Yes, Milady.”

_\- Was large enough for me._

At eight in the evening, Teodora pulled one of the boxes of herbs from her bag. Mixed with alcohol, she knew, these would act as an aphrodisiac for four hours and kill within six. “Castle? Where is my husband?”

“In the library,” it said ominously. Granted, she considered almost everything it said ominous.

“Tell him that I’d like to spend the night with him tonight, and have a carafe of wine sent up to the master bedroom, please.” This was one of the few things she could say that she knew it would approve of. Likely, that was the reason she made it to the bedroom relatively unhindered.

The carafe of wine was waiting when she got there. She stirred the herbs into it and poured two full glasses.

When her husband arrived, they finished the entire bottle together, and went to bed.

* * *

 

_I had no time to hate, because_

_The grave would hinder me,_

_And life was not so ample_

_I could finish enmity._

 

_Nor had I time to love, but since_

_Some industry must be,_

_The little toil of love, I thought,_

_Was big enough for me._

                                 -Emily Dickinson


End file.
